


A Little Something Extra

by 15Strawberries



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Pidge | Katie Holt-centric, Set During Season One, Timeline What Timeline, ish, off-screen shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 19:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/15Strawberries/pseuds/15Strawberries
Summary: The paladins finally get a day off, but it doesn't go nearly as smoothly as they had hoped.(Growing up is hard. Growing up in the middle of a war is harder.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This one was a long time coming.
> 
> A huge, huge thanks, first to fluffyneko for the wonderful comment that punched through my writer's block an encouraged me to actually start writing again. Then to Braincoins for the beta read and for encouragement while I was going through the "but what if it's TERRIBLE?!??!?!?" stage of editing :D (Seriously, ya'll should check her out, she writes really cute stuff and offers top notch beta reading, this fic wouldn't be nearly as good without her suggestions.)
> 
> And finally, to SassafrassRex for saying, dude, stop stressing and just post the thing already! *finger guns*
> 
> Anyway, hope you like it!

Space, Pidge learned, far too late to make any difference, wasn't nearly all it was cracked up to be.

The things _in_ space were great (or terrifying, or heartbreaking, or awe-inspiring, or . . . she was getting off topic) but space itself? Traveling through the sectors, from one planet or star system or galaxy to the next?

It was _so boring_.

Maybe if she'd had the slightest idea of what she was getting into the night she, Lance and Hunk had snuck off campus to investigate the alien spaceship that had crashed into the desert, she could have prepared better and this whole spacefaring gig wouldn't be so bad. But as things stood now?

There were only so many downloaded songs and movies on her laptop. Only so long they could explore the castle before it got depressing or creepy, only so many times they could play I Spy on the observation deck and have the answer being anything but "star," "asteroid," "the endless void of space," or "a Galra cruiser, get to your lions!"

So yeah. Space was boring. So boring, in fact, that Hunk discovering the pantry in the Altean kitchen had been the highlight of the entire week. Pidge actually didn't mind the food goo all that much, but Lance and Hunk had started waxing poetic about their moms' cooking, and then Keith mentioned that he could really go for a burger, and Shiro started to wistfully reminisce about fried dough with curdled milk, and mac n' cheese Thursdays at the Garrison and that--

Pidge tried not to judge anyone based on their food preferences, really. Her own flesh and blood preferred freeze dried peas to anything else a sane human being might eat. But seriously, what had the Galra been feeding Shiro the past year that he missed Garrison mac 'n' cheese?

(Ooh, bad thought, don't go there.)

Hunk, apparently, felt the same way, because he promised as soon as he figured out what was in the pantry, he was going to bake them something. Which had cheered all of them up because, y'know, pie. Or brownies or cookies or whatever else Hunk came up with. At this point they'd learned to just sit down and eat whatever he put in front of them.

But between the age of the ingredients and the difference between what humans and Alteans could safely ingest, there wasn't a lot to work with.

"No problem," Hunk said confidently, "We'll just ask Allura if we can go buy groceries somewhere. It'll be fine."

Allura, unfortunately, disagreed.

"Absolutely not," she closed the star map to stare at them better, "Whatever gave you such a ridiculous notion?"

While the rest of them were gaping, Hunk rallied and told her what they wanted and why they wanted it. Allura _still_ refused. They could survive off food goo just fine and stopping for something as nonessential as food was an unacceptable risk.

Hunk went pale. Then Pidge miiiight have crossed a line trying to make Allura understand that it wasn't just about _food_.

Everyone left that meeting in a foul mood. Shiro hadn't even bothered with training that afternoon, just let them go back to their rooms and sulk.

Keith and, surprisingly, Hunk headed off to the training deck anyway. Keith, she'd expected, but Hunk didn't usually seek out extra combat training. "Well _normally_ ," Hunk said, the words bitten out, "when I'm stressed I like to bake. Since that's not an option I'm gonna go beat up robots instead."

Lance went off to the map room, the way he always did when he was homesick and needed some time to get his head together.

Pidge took to the vents.

Technically she wasn't supposed to be in here. The first time Coran caught her, he'd given her this big lecture on ten-thousand-year-old insulation and unstable power levels, and all sorts of things that could happen if she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. But it was quiet and small, and nobody but the mice could come in after her, and that turned out to be really important in the aftermath of that Galra commander infiltrating the castle and almost killing Lance.

So. She wasn't supposed to be in here. Which meant she didn't see Hunk casually smashing robots on the training deck as he explained, at the top of his lungs, that food was a basic necessity, the foundation of community, the keystone of civilization, and anyone who thought otherwise had no soul. Keith was listening carefully, making encouraging noises in all the right places and slashing down any drones that tried to get through Hunk's blind spot.

In the map room, Lance had his arms wrapped around his knees, looking at an image of Earth that had been taken sometime in the Paleozoic era. Pidge moved on as soon as Coran came into the room; Lance could be touchy about letting the rest of them see how badly he missed home.

She'd meant to go back to her room after that. Work on some programming, follow up on some new leads, take a look at a piece of old tech Coran had said was okay to strip down. That sort of thing. Then she spotted Shiro stepping out of his room, and her curiosity got the better of her.

Pidge wasn't supposed to be in the vents. Which meant she wasn't supposed to know that Shiro went back to the main bridge. And she _definitely_ wasn't supposed to witness the quiet, fierce argument between Shiro and Allura, about human stress responses, boredom, and the vital importance of having a reason besides war to get up in the morning.

The next day at the morning briefing, Allura congratulated all of them on the progress they'd made in their training, and announced that she had changed her mind about Hunk's request. Coran knew of a trade depot where they could safely resupply, and everyone would be given leave and a small allowance.

"I've given you an impossible task, and you've shouldered it without complaint," she said, just a touch rueful. "I'm sorry it's taken me this long to recognize that."

Pidge made a mental note to buy Shiro something nice as a thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

They found the depot. From Coran's description Pidge had been expecting something like a mall (did space even have malls?) or one of those bulk-discount warehouses pretending to be stores.

To be fair, it probably  _ had _ been something like that. About ten thousand years ago. 

Now it was an open air market taking shelter in the shadow of some impressive ruins, tents tucked against crumbling walls and pylons, and blankets spread out everywhere there was room.

Coran was scratching his head, examining the crowded ruins with a puzzled look before shrugging off his confusion and finding a place where they could pawn off the jewelry Allura had donated to the cause. He returned with a downright astonishing pile of GAC, which he divvied up between the seven of them. "Now don't spend it all in one place." he said cheerfully, then took his share and headed straight for what Pidge was pretty sure was some sort of casino.

Pidge made a bee-line for Shiro and grabbed his elbow, (hesitating just a little when he flinched, but he relaxed again once he realized it was just her), "Dibs!" she announced.

Lance stopped mid-word in his conversation with Hunk to stare. Keith glared. 

Shiro smiled at her, bemused. "You need me for something specific?"

"Yup," Pidge grinned at him, "We're going shopping."

"What?!" Lance squawked. "No fair, I wanna go shopping with Shiro!"

"I'm going with you," Keith said quickly, still glaring.

Hunk looked up from the tricorder look-alike Pidge had helped him program, "Keith?" he asked, betrayed, "I thought you were coming with me for the supply run?"

Keith's eyes went wide, and he looked helplessly between Hunk and Shiro, "Um?"

Shiro patted his shoulder, "Pidge and I will be fine, buddy. Go have fun with Hunk."

"Alright!" Hunk cheered as Keith walked over, "This is gonna be so great. I'm pretty sure that last place we passed was selling leavened bread, which means they have yeast, or space yeast at least and if they have yeast then they might have cheese or yogurt or kimchi and at the very least I should be able to find stuff to make a kinda sourdough starter, right? Right?" He paused for breath, then turned to Lance, "You sure you don't want to come with us? We can look for space hot peppers and you can feed that capsaicin kink you've got."

"Hunk," Lance placed his hands on Hunk's shoulders, staring deep into his friend's eyes, "you know I love you. But I am never,  _ ever _ going food shopping with you again."

"Heh," Hunk grinned, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "Guess I can't blame you for that."

"Have fun terrorizing the locals," Lance said. He turned to Keith and, in a move more comradely than Pidge had ever seen between the two of them outside of combat, clapped Keith's shoulder, "Better you than me."

Then he walked up to Shiro and Pidge, smiling brightly, "So! Shopping?"

"Yup," Pidge nodded, "I was thinking we could find something for the rec room, y'know? Games or a movie, or heck, even a deck of playing cards or . . . you're not listening to a word I say."

"Huh?" Lance jerked his eyes away from where Allura had stepped outside to survey the market, hand raised to shield her face from the planet's two suns.  "Sorry, I wasn't listening."

"Ya don't say?"

Lance ignored Pidge, smoothing down his hair "'Scuse me."

"Lance." Shiro sighed.

"Sorry Shiro, duty calls." Lance put on his best lady-killer smile, then swaggered over to chat up the princess.

Pidge watched him go, then leaned over toward Shiro, "Should we do anything about this?" Because she recognized the smile on Allura's face as she greeted Lance. That smile was a harbinger of Bad Things. Things like new and terrifying training exercises and the phrase "let fear be your guide!"

Shiro eyed Lance and the princess, then, deliberately, turned away, "He'll never learn if we don't let him make mistakes." he murmured back.

Oh. Well, RIP Lance then. She'd make sure she had something nice to say at the funeral.

In the meantime, Operation: Buy Shiro Something Nice was officially a go.

For about ten minutes, until Pidge hit the SNAFU of Shiro flat-out refusing to buy anything for himself.

He was more than happy to help her choose out presents for the rest of them. They got an atmospheric noise generator for Lance so he'd stop stealing her headphones. For Hunk, a blacksmith puzzle-- well, a space blacksmith puzzle, it had lasers and holograms and one piece that seemed to phase in and out of their reality depending on how you moved it. Allura got a small bunch of brightly colored origami flowers-- very pretty, she'd love them. 

They dug through a tent selling "pre-war antiques" for the oldest and weirdest thing they could find as a gift for Coran, and wound up walking out with a smooth glass mirror-type thing with a squiggley antenna on top. Neither Pidge, Shiro nor the vendor had any idea what it was, which was practically a guarantee that Coran would know and would probably have some fun story about how it almost killed him at one point.

Keith was a little harder to shop for, but eventually they found a carver whittling small animals out of dark wood, and chose one for Keith. Pidge thought it kind of looked like a hippopotamus and Shiro promised Keith would love it. 

For herself, Pidge found a hardrive salvaged from a Galra cruiser (she was going to do bad, bad things to that hardrive).

But any time she tried to get something for Shiro?

"Don't worry about me, Pidge, I'm fine."

Potted plant? No. Wall hanging for his room? Nope. Culturally significant rock? Still a no go. B-grade movies-- well, maybe not B-grade, Shiro had taken one look at the stack of alien movie files and dragged her away before she could translate the titles.

Shiro took pity on her around lunchtime, pointing out a vendor selling grilled orange meat on a stick and letting her buy food for both of them.

It wasn't fair, Pidge thought, frustrated, as she gnawed on her skewer, Shiro deserved nice things too.

Still. In spite of her grand plan going awry, it seemed like Shiro was having fun. He was standing in the sunshine, watching people come and go with a smile that reminded Pidge of the planet where they'd found the Green Lion, with its sun-dappled jungles and peaceful giant sloths.

_ I've been locked up by aliens for a year, this is nothing. _

Yeah, Pidge decided, Shiro was definitely having fun. 

That alone made this worth it, even if she hadn't actually been able to get him anything ….

It took her a full minute to realize Shiro wasn't following her anymore.

A little bit of backtracking (very carefully  _ not  _ panicking, because Shiro could take care of himself and the closest Galran outpost was all the way on the other side of the solar system) and she found him.

There was a blanket tucked into the shadow of a wall, brightly-colored stuffed animals lined up on it. A small alien child, with light brown fur and large pointed ears like a desert fox, sat armed with needle and thread and was putting the finishing touches on a tiny lion doll made from black cloth. Shiro was crouched in front of them, eyes crinkled in an easy smile as he listened to their chatter.

When the black lion was finished they gave it to Shiro to hold, then dove for a bag filled to overflowing with half finished toys and scraps of fabric. Pidge grinned in open delight when they pulled out a little green lion, then a yellow lion, a blue lion, and a red lion to complete the set. Shiro was grinning too, almost laughing as he listened to the child tell an old story from their homeworld. About the goddess of heaven, whose son grew so powerful and so arrogant that she split his soul into five mystical beasts and scattered them to the far corners of the universe.

Another alien with the same brown fur and large ears shoved her way in between Shiro and the child, her hackles raised. Shiro fell back, catching himself with his metal arm as he overbalanced, and the alien barked an order that made the child's ears go flat against their head. The brightly colored lions vanished back inside the scrap bag, the little stuffed animals disappearing under a roll of cloth as they packed them away.

Shiro said something, too quietly for Pidge to hear even as she made her way closer. The alien made a sharp gesture, lips curling away from sharp teeth as she  _ snarled _ \--

Pidge elbowed her way through the last couple meters, reaching Shiro just as he got to his feet. "Hey," She smiled at the alien, taking extra care to show all of her own teeth, "What's going on here?"

"Nothing," Shiro said, calm and collected and in full-on Black Paladin mode, "A misunderstanding, that's all."

"Hurry up and get lost," the alien spat back.

Pidge saw red. "What's your  _ problem _ ?" she yelled, taking a threatening step forward.

"Pidge," A hand landed heavy on her shoulder and she looked up into Shiro's warning gaze. 

Before he could say anything else, the comms went off.  _ "Uhh, Shiro, Pidge?" _ Lance's voice crackled in and out, sounding nervous,  _ "You got a minute? _ "

God-quiznacking-dammit, couldn't they have just  one day where nothing bad happened?

Jaw set and shoulders squared, Shiro picked up the comm and marched off to find a quiet corner to talk, "Lance? What's wrong?"

Pidge lingered behind, still glaring at the alien. She _still_ had half a mind to--

A flash of black in the corner of her eye caught her attention and Pidge looked down. 

The black lion had been forgotten in the commotion. There was dirt ground into the cloth now, staining it yellow-brown, and suddenly Pidge was trying not to cry.

"Dammit," she muttered, kneeling down to pick it up and knock some of the dust off, "Dammit dammit dammit."

It really was well made. The cloth was impossibly soft, and there was some black on black embroidery that Pidge hadn't noticed before, picking out a nose, eyes and wings.

Pidge looked up, mouth opened to ask how much it was.

And stopped before she could say anything because the alien woman was  _ terrified _ . Her eyes were wide, darting between Pidge, the little lion doll and where Shiro was standing a few dozen feet away.

Not sure what else to do, Pidge glanced down again at the black lion doll, gesturing with it. "You know about Voltron?"

The child peered nervously at her from around their mother, the folded blanket strapped to their back. The alien picked them up, turning slightly so that she was between them and Pidge. "We don't want any trouble." she said quietly.

"Me neither." Pidge said, mind racing for some way to make this right. Because it wasn't anyone's fault, she could see that now. The kid looked too young to know that talking about Voltron at all was a good way to attract bad attention and the mother had taken one look at Shiro's obviously Galra-made arm and had drawn the wrong conclusion. And Pidge couldn't just come out and say that she was a paladin of Voltron, they were here incognito and if Lance's call was any indication they were in enough trouble without Pidge blowing their cover. There had to be some way ….

Wait.

Pidge dug through her pockets, ignoring her leftover GAC. She sorted through crumpled up note paper, random charging cords, mini screwdrivers, a port cable, and a few pieces of lint, until she dug out the old Altean coin she'd found one day doing laundry.

It still blew Pidge's mind that gold was almost universally valuable. Coran had explained it when she'd asked him. Cultures across the galaxies liked the shininess of it, and those that didn't appreciated its conductivity and resistance to corrosion. So the Alteans, being the intergalactic travelers that they were, designed a currency that they could take anywhere. A carat of pure gold, drawn into thin wire and coiled into a disk.

Pidge stuffed the lion doll into her backpack with all the other presents and tossed the Altean Interstellar Dollar to the alien, who caught it and bit down in confused reflex, looking at Pidge askance when it indented under her teeth. "Keep the change." Pidge said, then went to join Shiro.

Shiro glanced up from the screen of the open comm link, "Hang on a second, Pidge is here."

Pidge peered at the screen, waving at Allura and Lance, who were looking distinctly worse for wear than the last time she had seen them.

"Now," Shiro said with an exasperated sigh, "from the top. How exactly did Coran piss off the space mafia?"


	3. Chapter 3

Lance collapsed onto the couch in the rec room, staring blankly at the ceiling, "I can't believe we just got banned from a whole planet."

Pidge collapsed next to him a little more carefully, nursing her bruises, "I can't believe Coran's card counting got us banned from a whole planet," she grumbled.

"I can't believe Coran gambles." Hunk remarked cheerfully, sorting through his purchases on the floor. He and Keith had missed the space mafia excitement, getting caught up in some sort of impromptu cooking contest on the opposite side of the market. Hunk was still wearing the medal. "Hey Keith, tell me what this smells like."

Keith leaned over, obediently sniffing at the spiky purple leaves Hunk pushed into his face, "Agave and cactus juice."

"How do you know what cactus juice smells like?"

" ... Reasons."

"Right." Hunk set the leaves aside, "So that needs more testing."

"I didn't even get to buy anything!" Lance complained, "I mean, there was the juggler and the musician and the really nice shoulder massage place, but I wanted to do some actual shopping!"

"Speaking of that," Pidge straightened with a groan, unzipping her now blaster-scarred backpack. "Here. Presents."

"Ooooohh!" Hunk immediately snatched up the puzzle.

Lance held up the tangled remains of the noise generator between his thumb and forefinger, "What is this supposed to be?"

"Here," Pidge reached into the mess of wires, tapping two exposed ends together. The sound of crashing waves came tinny over the broken speakers. "I'll fix it for you later. You can keep borrowing my headphones until then."

"Aww," Lance grinned, ruffling her hair, "you do love me."

Pidge rolled her eyes, then pulled out Allura's flattened and crumpled origami flowers. 

"Did you get the hippo thing for Coran?" Keith sounded puzzled.

"Nah, Coran got his present already. It's the reason we just got banned instead of being fed to sand worms or something." Pidge said absently. "That's for you." She  _ might _ be able to reshape the flowers but at this point it was probably easier to reverse engineer the folding pattern and make another bunch from scratch--

"Dude, are you actually crying?" Lance asked loudly.

Pidge's head shot up.

"Shut up, no I'm not." Keith growled. He was kneeling in front of the table, not quite touching the wooden figurine, and the expression on his face made her slide off the couch to wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"It's kind of a gag gift," she said, patting him awkwardly, "It's okay if you don't like it."

"I love it,"  Keith flashed her a smile, returning her awkward arm-around-the-shoulders with one of his own rare, careful hugs. "Thank you. It … it means a lot."

"Aww," Hunk wiped a tear away, "You guys are so cute."

Keith stiffened and pulled away. Pidge glared at Hunk.They had  _ talked _ about this! You couldn't pay any attention to Keith when he was having feelings, otherwise he'd think they were making fun of him for being emotionally vulnerable.

Pidge grabbed her backpack as she rose to her feet, silently vowing revenge. "Anyone know where Shiro is?"

"Last I saw him he was still on the bridge helping the princess chew out Coran for taking unnecessary risks." Lance said, head lolled back against the couch cushion now that the drama was over. 

"Like cheating at a mafia owned casino," Hunk snickered, "Pretty sure they're done with that by now though. I saw Shiro getting food goo from the kitchen, he said he was going to clean up and try to go to bed early." He glanced at her, "Why? Did you get him something too?"

Pidge smirked, walking out of the rec room without answering.

"Pidge?" Hunk stood up, starting to follow her, "Pidge." He tripped over the couch, "Oof! I'm okay, Pidge! Answer the question Pidge!"

Stepping into the transporter that would take her down to the paladin barracks, Pidge turned around, meeting Hunk's gaze squarely. "Suffer." 

Hunk's outraged yelling followed her all the way down.

Ten minutes later and she was standing frozen in front of Shiro's door, wracked with indecision because this was  _ Takashi Shirogane _ . Black Paladin of Voltron, pilot of the Kerberos mission, survivor of the Galra gladiator arena, and all around badass.

Was she really going to give him a  _ stuffed animal? _

No. Of course she wasn't. What had she been thinking? Yes she'd wanted to get a gift for him, but she'd figure out something else, something that wasn't--

"Pidge?"

Shiro was standing at the other end of the hall, a towel around his neck and brows drawn together in concern.

Pidge leapt away from the door, "Shiro, hi! I was just here, and now you're here, because, of course you should be here, this is your room, it's me who shouldn't be here, so I'm just gonna go, and ...." Dammit, now she was rambling.

Shiro looked even more concerned. "Is something wrong?"

"No!" she said, too quickly to be really reassuring. She tried again, "No, really, there's nothing wrong, I just--" Oh heck. In for a penny, in for a pound, right? "Can I come in for a second?"

"Of course." Shiro moved past her to unlock his door, casting her worried looks all the while.

Pidge tightened her grip around the doll she'd shoved into her pocket, then followed him in.

Maybe it was just the contrast with her own room, but Shiro's barren quarters always creeped her out a little. Nothing but bare floors, bare walls, and a bed that looked like it had never been slept in.

Pidge plopped down on the bed and folded her legs underneath herself. Shiro hit a button on the wall and-- oh yeah,  _ that's _ what that button did-- a desk and chair materialized out of nowhere. He sat down, watching her.

He  _ still _ looked worried, Pidge realized with an internal groan.

Before she could talk herself out of it again, she pulled the lion doll from her pocket and shoved it into his hands.

"This is for you." she told him, and buried her face in her hands so she wouldn't have to see his reaction.

There was silence on the other side of the room, and the longer it went on the more Pidge wanted to shrivel up and die. Quiznack, she knew this was a mistake! Matt would have thought it was hilarious, but Shiro wasn't Matt and they were going to have to find a new Green Paladin because Pidge was going to die of embarrassment right here and now--

Shiro was laughing. 

Pidge peeked out from between her fingers cautiously.

Shiro was running the thumb of his left hand-- the one that was still flesh and bone-- over the soft cloth and embroidered wings on the lion's back. He glanced up when he noticed her watching, "A stuffed animal? Really?"

Pidge went beet red. "Well if you don't want it." she sniffed, reaching to take the little doll back.

"Oh no," he laughed, sweeping it up out of her reach, "you gave it to me, it's mine now." He was grinning like a little kid.

Pidge relaxed, grinning back.

"Um," he glanced at her again, "Why a stuffed animal though?"

"Well," Pidge shrugged, deliberately nonchalant, "you didn't seem to want anything else and I figured since you're only six--" Then she was eating fluff as Shiro grabbed the pillow at the head of his bed and threw it at her. 

"Keith told you." Shiro accused her as Pidge cackled.

"Nope. Lance has everything down to your blood type memorized."

"Seriously?" 

Pidge eyed him, "Shiro. The pilot track at the Garrison idolized you. Is it really that surprising that Lance is a fanboy?"

"I guess not, but," Shiro groaned, running his hands through his hair, "that explains so much."

Pidge patted him sympathetically. Finding out there were things she didn't know about her teammates was always more of a shock than it should be. Sure they'd been through a lot together, but they'd only been a real team for, what? Ten weeks? There was still plenty to learn.

Shiro was leaning back in his chair, legs propped up comfortably on the bed. His smile had faded a bit as he held the doll up to the light to examine it more closely. "This was from that kid earlier, right? The one who knew that old legend about Voltron?"

"Yeah." Pidge hesitated. "It's really okay if you don't want it," she blurted out, "I know it's not exactly a great memory."

"Huh?" Shiro blinked, "What are you talking about?"

"Their mom," Pidge shrugged awkwardly, "She was--"

"Really brave?"

"Really rude, you mean," Pidge shot back.

"She was scared," Shiro shrugged, "I don't blame her."

"She didn't have any reason to be scared," Pidge retorted, wrapping her arms around her knees, "You weren't going to hurt her or her kid. She was being mean for no reason."

"She didn't know I wasn't going to hurt them, though."

"You weren't doing anything!"

"Pidge," Shiro gestured to himself with a sardonic smile, "I don't exactly look like someone who should be trusted around small children."

And that wasn't fair. That  _ wasn't fair _ .

Pidge squeezed her eyes shut, scrubbing at her face with the heels of her palms and trying to pretend that she wasn't crying, because this was so  _ stupid _ , there was no reason for her to cry--

"Pidge?" There was a soft rustle and then the bed next to her dipped as Shiro sat down next to her and pulled her close, "Hey, it's okay."

Pidge leaned into his side and clung, just like she did on sleepless nights with too much data and no leads, when Shiro let her cry into his shirt until she was tired enough to sleep. None of this could possibly be okay because that alien had taken one look at Shiro and  _ hated _ him. 

And Pidge understood why.

Shiro was scary.

Objectively, he was scary. Just because he didn't scare her didn't mean she didn't see why other people were afraid. His arm alone was terrifying, and when you combined it with the look he got when she, or Keith or Lance or Hunk were in danger .... The scar on his face was the first thing people saw when they looked at him, and sometimes Pidge thought that was all they saw. Nevermind that scars were only what happened to you, not who you were.

None of that mattered because when people looked at Shiro, all they saw was violence.

You know what? Screw 'em. They could be as judgmental as they liked. There was a universe to save, and they weren't here. Shiro was.

Shiro was scary, that . . . that wasn't nothing. 

But he cared so much. About her, about his team, about people he'd never even met. And he tried so hard to be more than his demons.

That was something too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> My first multi-chapter fic, hey! Not that it's particularly long, it just works better split into multiple parts.


End file.
